


Tales of missed opportunities

by LorelaiFromNow



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Break Up, Growing Up, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27676298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LorelaiFromNow/pseuds/LorelaiFromNow
Summary: They had sex, andStiles walked out of the room a couple of hours later feeling confused, and, embarrassedly, disappointed. By noon the next day, Derek was crossing the border into Oregon. Fucking Oregon.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Original Female Character(s), Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski/Original Female Character, Stiles Stilinski/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

The sex, contrary to what their history would have led anyone to believe, was not _great._ It was not bad, per se, but they were both exhausted, and the relief that came from the fact that they did not actually die did not translate well into the whole experience. Stiles walked out of the room a couple of hours later feeling confused, and, embarrassedly, disappointed, and by noon the next day, Derek was crossing the border into Oregon. Fucking Oregon.

Over the course of the next few years, Stiles would find himself regretting the whole ordeal. No, it had not been traumatic or actually _bad,_ but he had to wonder what would have happened if Stiles had simply backed off. Or if he had hugged Derek. Or of he had pushed for them to talk. Derek and Stiles had always had a weird kind of relationship, but in that last year, his last before college, their interactions had become charged with something. Derek would actually seek Stiles out, and they would have lunch -or dinner, more often than not-, and then they would talk. Or Stiles would talk, usually, and Derek’s face would fill with something that looked suspiciously like fondness.

Other days, Stiles would tell himself that he had not actually lost anything. Derek did not talk, he knew that, and he was rude, and oddly arrogant, for someone so insecure. He yelled when he was frustrated, and sometimes said things that were hurtful. Stiles would meet his first boyfriend on December of his first semester at college, and he would realize that he did not need aloofness and cold words because he could be happy with soft smiles and warm touches.

(When he told Lydia about his discovery, she scoffed. She told him that he liked to be needed, and that he fantasied about the idea of saving the unsavable. She said that he got obsessed with her because he though he saw her, when no one else did, and wanted to give her something no one else had even offered. Her words were not a lie, but she sounded -as always- a little bit cold and a little bit mocking, so he hung up on her.

However, a year later he realized he really could not handle being the center of someone’s world. Richard was from New York and had been looking forward to spending Christmas and New Year’s Eve with Stiles, and his family, in the New Apple. Stiles, on the other hand, had bought tickets back home since august, when they were a whole lot cheaper and he had a couple extra bucks from his internship, and did not think to talk to Richard about his plans. The period after the Big Holiday Fight (and Stiles was thinking about getting it trademarked) became what Stiles called The Cold War Period, in which both men were too scared to start a fight that, they both knew, could end in a break up.

…spoiler alert? They did break up. In February and over the phone. Stiles felt worse about the fact that he did not really feel bad than about the fight itself. The world, and Stiles, sucked _balls_.

The Sheriff, when Stiles talked to him about the whole ordeal, told him that he probably needed to figure out what he wanted. He had picked New York because it was far away from home, and Stiles needed space, but he knew he wanted to settle down in Beacon Hills, or the surrounding area, eventually. That knowledge probably crashed with any plans he made with a significant other of taking their hypothetical relationship to a more serious place. Richard had screamed something along those lines on the day before the breakup, and Stiles had felt just as unsettled then as he felt on March, when he talked with his father.

The thing with Richard brought him back to Derek. Not in a literal sense, because -by then- Stiles did not know where the guy had ended up, but it did make him think about their relationship. Once again, he found himself wondering whether he would have been able to commit, if it had been Derek. Maybe? At the end of the day, their aspirations and desires were not all that different. Of course, Derek had left California, clearly signaling he did not see a future within the limits of Beacon Hills, but Stiles could understand that for the guy that had lost his whole family, maybe remaining in a place where there was nothing to anchor him did not sound at all pleasant.

Stiles would also think about Richard. Richard was a _good guy_ , pending trademark. He was smart and responsible, even if a little bit anal about certain aspects of his life. He was kind, most of the time, and he had a more or less good relationship with his family. Stiles met Richard at one of his classes, and sparks certainly did not fly. Well, they did not fly for Stiles: Richard had said that he had noticed Stiles from the very first moment he heard him speak, that he had been charmed by how passionately he had spoken about whatever that day’s topic had been.

However, Richard was painfully shy. Stiles had grown up believing he needed to be loud, in order to be heard. He had had to compete with people that were smarter, and more attractive, and better spoken. And then he had to compete with fucking werewolves and banshees and kanimas, and the whole ordeal had been traumatic. Richard, however, had been bullied as a child, and once he grew up, he did not quite learn the intricacies of human relations. He preferred to stay quiet, and if Stiles had not awkwardly flirted with him, the relationship would not have happened.

_We weren’t right for each other_. Stiles had told Lydia, after she pulled the story out of him. Stiles would not admit that she had been right, because that thing, with the meanness, was absolutely fucked up. He had to wonder where it came from: his dad was a saint, and even though Stiles had been a difficult child, he never even raised his voice; the relationship between his parents, from what he could remember had not been bad, and he did not think that his mother’s death would have impacted his expectations from prospective partners.

_I’m no psychologist, kiddo, but I think you’re oversimplifying your own brain._ His dad had suggested. What did that even mean? That particular conversation had not been remotely useful: his dad had once again said that he needed to figure out what he wanted out of life, and that dragging innocent bystanders into that kind of turmoil was not fair. But, then again, his dad had been more useful than Lydia, who had simply pointed out that Stiles did not particularly care for the suffocating-kind-of-love Richard had offered.

After graduation, Stiles moved back to the East coast. His plan was still to settle down in Beacon Hills, but he was 21 years old, and he did not fancy losing his independence just yet. He got a job and an apartment in Sacramento and put everything else in hold.

And things were holding just fine, when he met _Kimberly._ Kimberly was a bitch. Stiles never told Lydia that much, because she did not like when the word was used to describe a woman, but -at the end of the day- Kimberly was harsh, and rude, and dramatic. She made fun of everyone around her, frequently of Stiles, and she did so while drinking from a Starbucks’ cup that was probably filled with water.

Stiles did not like Kimberly, but he had let Lydia get into his head. Lydia had said that he did not want warmth and love, so maybe Kimberly was just what he was looking for. However, two months into the relationship, Stiles found himself saddled with a gym membership he probably was not going to use, and most of his wardrobe had been hidden, just in case, and was replaced by Kimberly-approved-pieces.

Kimberly and Lydia met three weeks after they started going out and, initially, got on like a house on fire. Lydia respected the way Kimberly held her own against the whole world, if necessary, and Kimberly liked – Stiles had never figured that one out. He adored Lydia, of course, and was very well versed into her best qualities, but those same characteristics would not have been appreciated by Kimberly. However, their relationship changed when Kimberly made it clear she did not like when Stiles spent time alone with Lydia. She clearly was dubious of the possibility of males and females being friends, which was in itself absurd, and even though Lydia was sometimes too harsh with her truths, she appreciated Stiles’ friendship.

Lydia got pissed after Kimberly turned up at one of their lunch dates, and after that, it was a matter of time until the relationship ended. If Stiles were to be honest, he had been looking for an excuse to break up but had been too much of a coward to bring up the subject with Kimberly. However, her attitude towards his best friend ended up being a good enough excuse.

_It’s like you purposely chose the worst woman out there. Were you trying to prove a point?_ Lydia’s question actually hit the mark. Yes, Stiles had been trying to make a point; however, once the relationship had ended, he realized he did not know what his point had been. Maybe that he did not really want to be treated badly?

As he walked back home after his dinner with Lydia and his mind wandered back to Derek. He had to acknowledge that Derek was a little bit odd, a whole lot fucked up, and , sometimes, his harshness came from a genuine inability to coexist with human beings. The way Derek had treated him was nothing like the way Kimberly had, and it was unfair that he had dared to compare them.

…Now, if one had to talk about Lydia, one would probably have a different opinion. But one should not spend too much time thinking about Lydia’s shortcomings, or else one’s whole would come crashing down in a fraction of a second. 

And so, he decided that grudgingly following Lydia’s advice would not get him anywhere in life. Grudgingly, maybe, being the key word. His father’s advice was much better: if he did not know what the hell he wanted out of life then he clearly did not know what the hell he wanted out of relationships. When he told his father about this particular revelation, he was not particularly happy, though. He said that the least he wanted was for Stiles to think he should be alone, out of some sense of misplaced selflessness. Stiles realized he did not know what his father had been trying to tell him all along, if this decision caused him distress, but he was exhausted of the hoops he had to jump through to make someone else happy.

It all kind of went to shit when he saw Derek, a year or so after his breakup.

He should begin by talking about Taylor: Stiles met Taylor at a LGBTQ bar he was invited to by one of his friends. Stiles had been sitting at the bar, alone while his friend try to hook up with his ex, when they approached him: Taylor had a mustache and stubble, but they were wearing a tight, short skirt and dangerously high heels. They identified as asexual, and seeing Stiles sitting alone made them thing he did, too. Even though that particular observation had been wrong, they started talking and, soon enough, exchanged numbers.

Taylor became one of his best friends by the end of the month.

Now, Taylor had family in San Francisco. They liked to visit from time to time -and, secretly, Stiles wondered why they would choose Sacramento if San Francisco was available- and they managed to convince Stiles to come with during the second weekend of August. Taylor also had friends in San Francisco, and soon after they arrived, both Stiles and Taylor were invited to have dinner at a fancy restaurant by one of said friends.

Oh, how Stiles wished he had been shier! How he wished he had not gone!

Stiles saw the back of his head just before the waiter came in to take their orders. He told himself he was imagining things; he told himself surely the world was not small enough to have Derek Fucking Hale having dinner at the same restaurant he had been invited to. However, Derek, ten minutes later, stood up and –yup– there was not denying Stiles knew that face.

He turned around, but he also knew Derek must have at least smelled him. He did not know if he chose not to come over because of how clearly uncomfortable Stiles looked, but he did not.

Two hours later, after much pretending that he was not actually trying to catch a glimpse of Derek, Stiles realized the other man was there on a date. The girl was absolutely beautiful, with long black hair and a kind smile, and Stiles –

Look, the sex had not been good, and Derek had not been great. However, Stiles had managed to convince himself that, a couple of years down the road, they would meet again, and it would all be different. Different how? He did not know, not really, but he had imagined meeting Derek at the station, maybe, or simply walking down the road. Maybe Derek would hear about Stiles’ return to Beacon Hills, and he would reach out. In his craziest fantasies, Derek actually looked him up in Sacramento, and when they met again, sparks would finally fly.

Seeing Derek in a date – Seeing Derek enjoying himself in a date was a tough wake up call. Even though they had gone throw literal hell together, they had never quite managed to become friends. Stiles and Derek were bound together by pain and tragedy and trauma, and those things were never a good basis for a relationship. At least not outside of movies.

He excused himself after the bill was paid. Taylor wanted to go out dancing, and Stiles told them he had a headache. He went back to the motel and took a shower. Pointedly, he did not cry.

He did decide that it was time to go back to Beacon Hills, once he returned to Sacramento. Stiles had to admit that he had been staying away out of a misplaced hope that he would hear of Derek’s return to Beacon Hills and only then he would pack up his bags. Instead, he sent his CV to BH Community College, where a teaching assistant position had been opened, and another one to a couple of coffee houses in the area. He called the couple of friends he had managed to make in Sacrament; he handed in his letter of resignation, and, finally, he called both his father and Lydia.


	2. Chapter 2

Laura would have liked Stiles, but his mother would have hated him.

Years after the fire, and months after Laura’s death, Derek would find himself wondering what his family would think of certain events – or people, in this case. It was unavoidable: Derek was alone because Peter did not count, and actually projecting their thoughts made life a little bit easier.

Regardless, Laura would have liked Stiles.

Derek had at first hated him. Stiles was loud and abrasive: his whole personality, the way he carried himself, was a loud call for attention. Derek had gotten used to laying low, and he was good at being invisible. Stiles, however, saw him. He had seen him from the very beginning, to they point where he had had distrusted him, and he had made his life a whole lot harder than it had any right to be, given that he had just lost his sister.

But Stiles was also loyal to a fault.

Loyalty was not Stiles’ only virtue. Derek could mention the fact that he was funny, or that he was unapologetically himself, but to a wolf that had lost his whole pack because of betrayal, loyalty was much more appealing than anything else.

Derek would not regret sleeping with Stiles. Their relationship had clearly been moving towards that particular event, and Derek had been too exhausted to keep avoiding it. He could not even regret the way it had happened, because he knew it would not have happened any other way. He did not even regret walking away the next day because it had been necessary: it was the best thing he could have done for himself.

Apparently, he held no regrets regarding his relationship with Stiles. So why did he feel a pang in his chest when he thought about him?

There was nothing in Oregon, as in – nothing to tie him to Oregon, but Oregon was the one place he had not lived in with Laura after the fire. Well – that was not completely true: he had not lived in Arizona, but Oregon had, oddly enough, sounded better. He settled down in Portland and quickly found a job at a construction site. He introduced himself to the Alpha of the nearest pack and assured her that he had no intention of laying a claim on the land or otherwise making an annoyance out of himself.

So, yes, he settled down in Portland.

He wondered what would have happened if a healthier Derek Hale had met Stiles – Maybe a healthier Derek would not have felt attracted to a man seven years his junior. But what if he had: what if a healthier Derek had met Stiles after he was of age and something had happened. Would they have had a better chance of making things actually work between the two of them?

Laura would have liked Stiles, that much was certain. She would have liked his bad jokes and his bursts of comedic genius. She would have liked how much shit he seemed to give Derek because she was sadistic like that. Maybe Laura would have pushed him. _It’s seven years, Der, not seventeen. Get over yourself,_ she would have said. Maybe with her interference, it would have worked.

Or maybe it would not have: his mother would not have liked Stiles. She would not have liked how loud he was, how unable to blend into a crowd. She would not have trusted him with the family secret, and if she had been alive, neither Scott nor Stiles would have gotten involved with the supernatural world.

_You know better, bear. He is the sheriff’s son, he would put all of us at risk._ She would have said. And if Derek had been healthier, he would have not known how much of a lie that statement was. Maybe he would have lowered his gaze, his eyes would have flashed golden -because Paige would not have happened- and his mother would have kissed to top of his head.

Derek did wonder, after all, under what circumstances his relationship with Stiles would have worked beyond a night of mediocre sex.

Derek met Ivan at the construction site. Ivan was a good guy, with a happy smile and a belly that he patted gleefully as he spoke of his wife. His wife, Adriana, was a short woman with ample hips. They had not asked about Derek’s life prior to his arrival to Portland, but they had practically taken him under their collective wing. By the end of his first month working at the site, he had a standing invitation to have dinner with them and their daughter, Clara. He liked Ivan.

Ivan introduced Derek to a couple of friends, and -for the first time in his life- Derek managed to build a life that resembled a normal one. He dated, without much success, and he hung out with his friends. Life was good. But he did wonder, under what circumstances his relationship with Stiles would have worked.

Ivan convinced him to go to therapy, even though he did not know the story of Derek’s life. He also convinced him to enroll into Portland’s Community College, and a year after his arrival, Derek was taking classes in the building construction technology program. Derek liked Ivan a lot.

Ivan did not think Derek needed college, but he seemed to think -even though he did not know his story- that Derek needed to be able to close the chapters that had been left open by everything that had happened to him. He did not need college, but he needed to be part of an academic community, simply because he could. Derek, from time to time, wondered if it was true that Ivan did not know his story. In response, one November afternoon, Clara -Ivan’s daughter, in case the reader has forgotten- told him that, sometimes, his father just knew what to say. Derek did not fancy the headache that would come from thinking about that answer too much, so he just nodded.

By contrast, Adriana simply did not know. Sometimes, bless her little and distracted heart, she forgot that people were not supposed to talk about Derek’s family, because it would lead to a very uncomfortable silence. Sometimes, she forgot that no, Derek did not have any friends that would like to accompany him to dinner at her house. She also forgot that people were not supposed to apologize because it would make Derek feel worse, and any anxiety over the fact would surely grow.

Oh, sweet Adriana.

Now, the part about friends would eventually change, to the fortune of everyone involved. Derek would meet Luisa at campus. Luisa was a sweet woman, maybe two or three years older than Derek, and Derek had been enchanted by her dry humor and soft voice. Later on, in a long conversation with his therapist, Derek would admit that he had been enchanted by how much she reminded him of Paige and, thus, how unlike Kate she was. Derek and Luisa started dating maybe four months after they met. It was within the first couple of weeks that Derek realized that she was not the love of his life, but the relationship was warm and comforting, and he did not want to give it up.

Derek would sometimes think about Stiles, and their night of mediocre sex: would it have been better if Derek had been more honest about his feelings? He thought about their night together constantly during his time in Oregon, and he realized that his lackluster performance probably had something to do with trust. Yes, he had trusted Stiles would cut his arm if it was needed, but he could not trust that he would take care of his heart. What if he had fallen in love and Stiles had moved on in college? What if he got to college and he regretted being tied down to someone Derek’s age?

_Der, it’s seven years, not seventeen, get over yourself._ He could almost hear Laura say, while rolling her eyes.

His sex with Luisa was not perfect, but it was better. Luisa was kind, and sweet, and made of every good thing in the world. Derek could not have trusted her to hold him in a pool for two hours, but he could trust that she would treat his heart with care. She also moved to San Francisco, a year and a half into their relationship, and to Derek, the decision not to give up the warm and comfort that came from it was easy: he chose to make it work long-distance.

…yes, Luisa had been a little bit surprised when he said that. Years later, he would realize that when he made a speech about how important she was to him, she had expected him to declare that he would move all the way to San Francisco. He would realize his mistake, but he knew that he would not have been able to leave Ivan and Adriana, and Clara needed him to drive her to soccer practice every Sunday morning, because neither of her parents were morning people.

His therapist’s name was Johanna. She was not the one that had been suggested by Ivan, because therapy did not make sense if he couldn0t speak about werewolves, but she had been recommended by Christina, the alpha he had met when he first arrived to Portland. Derek liked Johanna, and he decided to give therapy a real go. He wondered, for a moment, under what conditions his relationship with Stiles would have worked.

_Are you using Stiles as an excuse not to connect with other people?_ Johanna asked as she offered him a cup of tea. Johana liked tea, if nothing else, because it provided some structure to her sessions.

_What do you mean?_ He had asked, but he also knew what she meant. Was he using Stiles as an excuse to keep other people away? In a way, maybe. He thought about him when he fucked Luisa, and he thought about him when he wondered what kind of man he would have to be to have a healthy relationship. Stiles, in a way, was a proxy for a lot of the traumas that came after he became an adult, after he returned to beacon hills. Stiles was a proxy the same way his mother and Laura were sometimes.

But he also wondered what conditions would have allowed him to be with Stiles. Yes, it was a proxy, but it was also a matter of remembering his brown eyes. And his smile. And his mouth. And his hands. Maybe, if Derek had been healthier, he would have allowed himself to fuck said mouth the way he had wanted to. Maybe he would have explored his skin, counted his moles. Maybe, just maybe, it would have been different.

He did not tell Johanna that. Instead, he said: _Maybe._ Johana looked as if she knew he had been holding back and was not particularly impressed. Derek did, in fact, like _Johanna._

He told Ivan that much when he asked about therapy. Then, Ivan asked: _Are you going to San Fran for Luisa’s birthday?_ Derek had nodded, even though he had completely forgotten that there was a birthday he should be traveling for.

He had managed to avoid going to California, funnily enough. Luisa had friends and family in Portland, so they had mostly met around the area. Once, they had vacationed in Mexico, but had booked different planes to return to their respective homes afterwards. Derek did not think anything would happen if he chose to travel to California, but maybe that was the problem: the idea that a simple trip back home would not be enough to produce some sort of change in his life was absolutely devastating.

But he did travel to San Francisco. He managed to surprise Luisa with an expensive bouquet at her place of work, and immediately asked her to pick a place to have dinner that evening. Luisa, bless her sweet soul, had been absolutely delighted by the prospect. Derek, years later, would realize that she had expected to come out of the date with a ring around one specific finger. Derek would have to admit that the warmth and the comfort he felt should not have been enough to justify the way he had hurt sweet Luisa.

They arrived to the restaurant just in time, and the waiter walked them towards their table, which had been adequately decorated. Derek smiled as he looked at Luisa, and inhaled when he realized he had missed her perfume…

…and then almost threw up, when another scent was registered.

Stiles was sitting several tables away from him, and he had not seen him yet. He looked good, very well settled, and ridiculously handsome. Derek would realize that warmth and comfort were not enough to hold together a relationship, because he had realized he could almost hear the blood rushing through his veins just because he had seen Stiles.

Derek did not know what he had been expecting, but he certainly had not expected to be ignored throughout the whole ordeal. He kept stealing gazes throughout the courses, but he quickly realized Stiles was actively trying keep Derek from noticing him.

Derek did not know what he had expected.

But to be fair, he did not approach Stiles either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to disregard most of the last seasons of the show; I should have made it clear before. I think it's obvious by now, but it makes me feel better that it's been said. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. I should also say, again, that English is not my first language. Feel free to reach out and make corrections, just be kind.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles’ relationship with his mother had been strained during the last year of her life. Stiles had been too young to understand what the illness had been doing to her brain, and she had been too proud to talk about it. 

His mother screamed at him, insulted him, threw things at him. She had become, for all intents and purposes, and stranger in a position to physically and mentally abuse of a child. Stiles had not been lying when he said that his mother death had not impacted him – her diagnosis was the biggest influence in Stiles’ childhood. 

They told us that we should look into assisting living facilities. His father told him over coffee, a few days after he returned to Beacon Hills. Stiles had not meant to bring up the topic, but his mother had been wandering around his thoughts. It slipped out. It was in the very beginning, a few weeks after she was diagnosed. She was deteriorating fast, so her prognosis wasn’t great. But her doctor was telling me that my wife was going to be scared, and confused, and sick, and that I was supposed to – they said institutionalized medical care, and all I heard was Eichen House. I couldn’t. 

And his father had not been able to actually plan her hospitalization, not until they were very close to the end. Stiles had been too young to understand that some of the blame for his childhood trauma could be placed upon his father, but Noah understood it all too well. I think – do you remember – it was almost Halloween, I think…

His father was not making himself particularly clear, but Stiles knew what he was talking about. It happened around October, a few weeks after the McCalls moved to Beacon Hills. His father had been caught up with work, had been for at least ten days, and he had finally agreed to let his mother pick him up from school. It was a last resort: he usually asked their neighbor, Mrs. Schuester, but her grandkids were visiting and was not able to help. 

Stiles waited for his mother for three hours, and Scott -who had just become his friend- waited with him. Scott missed the bus, because of this, so Melissa had to pick them up eventually. She drove him home, a small wrinkle between her brows, and waited outside as he walked inside the house. 

…Stiles had to be thankful that she had waited outside. Claudia -and he could not call her his mom at that moment- had been caught up in one of her paranoia episodes. She had been curled up in the floor when he walked in, rocking her body back and forth in an almost rhythmic fashion. 

…and then she saw him. She screamed, called him an oaf, and ran towards Stiles but slipped in her hurry. She grabbed a porcelain figurine from the nearest table and threw it towards Stile. It crashed against the wall, but a few pieces flew into his face and scratched his cheeks. Stiles screamed back and ran back out of the house, throwing the door behind him. 

For the longest time, Stiles thought that when his mother had called him an oaf, she was using the word as an insult. It was an insult, but not in the way Stiles had thought. When he got interested in mythology, he had realized that his mother, in his paranoia, had become convinced that Stiles was not her child, but a human-like-creature, left by a Boginki. 

His father had to pick him up early the next morning. Stiles knew he had a very uncomfortable conversation with Melissa, and that it was probably the first step in the close friendship they would develop over the years. 

After that event, his father refused to leave him alone with his mother for longer than an hour, and even then, he demanded Stiles to keep his distance. But Stiles was a child, and he missed his mother. He disobeyed constantly, maybe attempting to change his mother’s mind – to cure him, but all he got for his troubles were screams and insults. 

I swore that I wouldn’t let my child go through what I did. And I was so careful with you – I didn’t even dare to discipline you if I was angry, because I was scared I would hit you. And all of that was for nothing. He had rubbed his face in clear distress, and Stiles had just put a hand over his forearm. 

At some level, he had understood that his mother had become someone else after her diagnosis. At some level, he saw the events after said diagnosis from a third party perspective. Those things happened to someone else, someone who was not Stiles. It’s called dissociation, his first therapist would say, once he dared to voice his thoughts, and it’s your mind’s response to trauma. 

So yes, it was not his mother’s death the thing that had changed him; it was the way she had lived after her diagnosis. “Trauma”, his therapist had said, but Stiles had not been traumatized: Mieczysław had been traumatized. Yes, there it was, dissociation. Apparently, not the healthiest coping mechanism, not when the source of the trauma left other wounds in your psyche. 

Do you think I blew it? He had asked his father. The conversation was an uncomfortable one -one should not speak about one’s past sexual partners with one’s father- but his relationship with Lydia had been cooling ever since she got into a serious relationship, and he did not have friends he could speak candidly with – and by candidly, he meant about werewolves and Nogitusnes. 

He walked away first, his father answered, taking a swig of alcohol. Son, Derek Hale is a very damaged individual – No, please, let me. He is a damaged individual, and for whatever reason, he walked away first. There is no point in beating yourself over whatever decisions you’ve made regarding Derek Hale, because he walked away first. 

Stiles was not particularly satisfied with that answer. He took a swig of his own drink -the last one- and then put down the glass. He would think about that conversation in the following days, regardless of the fact that he had not been satisfied by the answer – maybe because he had not been satisfied by the answer. 

One should speak about the fact that Stiles did not have friends within the supernatural circle. One would tend to think about Scott, or Isaac, or – well, anyone. One would have to forget that things had gone to shit after the Alpha pack arrived at Beacon Hills.

One would have to be honest, though, because it all began with Isaac. 

Derek had explained to him that Boyd’s and Erika’s left had hit Isaac harder than he had allowed himself to show. They were part of his pack, and to a wolf, the death of pack was almost unbearable. Isaac, by that point, had los almost everything, and he had latched to Scott like one might to a lifeboat. 

…the problem, of course, was that Scott had the emotional maturity of a child, and Stiles had never been taught to share. 

It is necessary to go back to Stiles’ childhood, to understand why. Stiles was the hyperactive, annoying child of the Sheriff. Other kids did not want to be his friend, both because he was like an Energizer bunny and because they were convinced that his father would put them in jail. That particular conclusion was Jackson’s fault, who had managed to convince all of his friends -Jackson’s, not Stiles’- that the Sheriff job was to punish children who misbehaved. So, of course, no one wanted to misbehave in his presence. 

And Stiles had not liked that, not one but, but he had been okay. His mother had always said that children were just not ready to accept just how awesome he was, and that things would change once he got older. But then his mother got sick, and she too thought Stiles was a nuisance. She would always snap at him, particularly when he interrupted one of her routines, and thus he lost the little bit of anchoring he had in his life. 

The lack of tether did not last long, though, because by that point, Scott had already arrived to Beacon Hills. 

There was nothing wrong with Scott. He has not annoying or hyperactive, and he never excelled in his academic work, so there was no jealousy. He was asthmatic, though, so he couldn’t play with the other children. Jackson -and it was always Jackson- managed to turn him into a social pariah within the first week after his arrival. 

…It was okay, though, because Stiles knew asthma was not contagious and Scott was probably the coolest kid at the school. 

You know how Stiles said that Isaac had latched onto Scott after Boyd and Erika died? Well, Stiles had done so many years before that. Stiles had made out of Scott his best friend and his brother, and he had not been prepared for the way life had managed to pull them apart. 

Was there something he did? Something he actually did, not something you imagined, I mean. His father had asked at one point. Stiles had had to think about the answer, because he had not been sure. The answer, however, had not been a simple one: Scott had grown up into an all-or-nothing kind of guy. His romances were intense and all consuming; his friendships and every other relationship functioned in a similar way. He had been Stiles’ friend and he had managed to be only Stiles’ friend. Then, he had become Allison’s boyfriend and he had forgot how to be Stiles’ friend. Then his relationship with Allison had ended, and Scott had been the untethered one. 

…but then he had had to be Isaac friend, and any other role had become unavailable. 

The problem is that Isaac did not like Stiles. At all. He would sneer and glare and sniff at him, as if he was a piece of something disgusting stuck to the sole of his shoes. And Scott would notice and ignore it, because there was not much room for Stiles in his life. Stiles had to answer his father’s question: He left me behind. He did nothing wrong, but he did nothing quite right, either. The relationship couldn’t have survived high school. 

And you didn’t fight? There had been no judgement in his father’s eyes: the question had been genuine. Stiles had sighed as he played with the tattered hem of his sweater. 

By then I had started helping Derek. I was hurt, and confused, by Scott’s actions, but Derek needed my help. I guess we both filled the spaces the other used to occupy. 

So the summary went like this: Scott abandoned him; Isaac hated him; Boyd and Erika were death; Lydia’s friendship was not really constant and he hated Jackson. There was Cora, who had never trusted him, and Peter, whom he had never trusted. And thus, Stiles found himself in the middle of his twenties with no friends and drinking whiskey with his father. 

…to be quite honest, there were worse places to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should add a slow burn tag, shouldn't I? Because it is a slow burn. The dynamic I've swet up here, of the switching PoV, and the charactr-study kind of narration, makes the story to progress slowly. 
> 
> It should also be said that these kind of chapters allow me to point to the canon facts that are canon here, and those that are not. Tell me if it's annoying, it could actually be so. 
> 
> Finally: I'm actually at a good spot in my writing. Have you (and by *you* I mean the reader, whomever you might be) experienced that feeling Stiles described in the first chapter? Like...dude, I could have had it all with this person, but maybe i screwed up somewhere along the line? Well: there it is, the inspiration.


	4. Chapter 4

Luisa told him she was pregnant a month after he returned to Portland. They had not been intimate more than a couple of times, but -apparently- she had changed her pill recently and the new one had proved to be a little bit ineffective.

…Derek. Derek had not taken it well. He had not thought about having kids in several years, at least not since Laura had died. He and Laura had spoken about the possibility of growing the pack when they were in New York, and Laura had even pondered the question seriously when she found herself in a nice relationship with a nice man, but Derek had not spoken about it beyond the fact that if he had a girl, he wanted to call her Natalia.

…and as Luisa told him about the pregnancy, he realized that he did not want to spend the rest of his life with her.

Luisa’s father was a retired army officer. He was a stern-looking man with a military cut, who always wore a perfectly polished outfit. Luisa’s mother, on the other hand, seemed to have been taken out of a magazine, depicting what an army’s wife should look like. She was just like her daughter: sweet hand kind, but with a mischievous sense of humor.

Luisa also had an older brother. An older brother who was sixteen years her senior. He was – well, Derek was sure that if he had been a werewolf, he would have been an alpha. He was just as stern-looking as her father, but somehow seemed angrier, less put together. Luisa had explained that he had recently gone through a difficult divorce, brought by his controlling attitude and maybe a little bit of alcohol abuse.

…it should be pointed out that neither her father, nor her mother, nor her brother seemed to like Derek. He was not quite sure what about him brought out their protective instincts, but he suspected it had a little bit to do with his job, or the fact that he had just decided to go to college. Or maybe it was that, after the time they had been together, Derek still seemed a little bit closed off, and anything form his life before his arrival to Portland seemed to be out of limits.

Regardless, Derek had met Luisa and her family at a restaurant for a nice dinner. By then, she had already told them about the baby, but they had not had a chance to go over the specifics. The event had ben…well, nice, and nothing noteworthy had happened up until the point where her brother pulled him aside and told him, in no uncertain terms, that he expected Derek to make a honest woman out of his sister.

Derek found the whole concept completely old-fashioned -anachronic, even- but he quickly realized that he had not talked about relationship expectations with Luisa, not throughout the whole time they had been dating, and thus found it entirely plausible that she would be expecting a ring, now that she was with child.

He did not immediately made a decision, but Derek did think about his parents. He thought about his mother and his father, and how they had seemed like the perfect couple when he was a teen.

Talia had met Eric when she was eighteen. Eric had been a human member within a pack – well versed in pack politics, but outside the full control of his alpha. They had liked each other from their first conversations, and it had been Eric’s father who had suggested a union between the two of them. It had technically been an arranged marriage, given the specifics, but Talia and Eric had managed to fall in love over the two years of their courtship.

They got married one Spring afternoon, with their whole packs present, and Talia’s father had given her a house to start her pack. They moved to Beacon Hills because it was located just outside the borders of the Satomi territory, within a piece of land that was still considered Hale’s by birthright. They had been living there for two months when a hunter clan killed off the whole of Eric’s pack, thus leaving him as the last remaining member of his family.

Talia and Eric’s story was not romantic in a traditional sense. They did not have a passionate tale of falling in love and defeating adversity together, but they had loved each other, and had become a strong unit. Derek had seen his parents dancing under the moonlight sometimes, and he had envied their companionship. His envy had been particularly prominent after Paige’s death, because he had thought he could get that kind of connection with someone like her.

…he had to wonder if they would have approved of Luisa. His mother, probably, would have not liked the fact that her father was military, but she would have gotten over that particular problem, given that she was not close to her family. His father, on the other hand, would have loved to talk to her about history -his favorite subject- or about art -which was Luisa’s favorite topic-.

Specifically, Talia would have not been opposed to a convenience marriage. She would have applauded Derek’s decision to walk away from Stiles, and she would have found in Luisa a respectable wife. Beyond that, she would have wanted him to be responsible, to take charge, and it was that knowledge that made him buy a ring and propose to Luisa over dinner…

…she did not say yes.

She had not said no, exactly, but she certainly had not reacted the way Derek had been expecting. _You didn’t seem all that interested in marriage, before baby._ She said, rubbing a thumb over her bellybutton. She was not showing yet, it was still too early, but she seemed to find comfort in the action. She did smell pregnant, however, and the whole experience made it harder to think.

_I had not thought about marriage, before the baby. But the baby does change things_ , he replied, taking her hand. He was starting to feel the sting of rejection, even though he had not been particularly sure of his decision when he proposed.

_I don’t want to be an afterthought, Der. I’m perfectly capable of handling motherhood as a single woman, you know?_ Derek opened his mouth to protest. It seemed as if she was assuming that he would not be in the baby’s life. The problem was that, however unsure he felt in their relationship, he was completely sure he would love his child. _I’m not – I want to wait until after the baby is born. After we have had time to become parents, and after you have had time to figure out if this is what you want. We don’t have to be a couple for you to be a father – it’s okay if you don’t want to be with me._

Derek would have time to think about what it meant for Luisa to talk to him in such aa way, for her to admit that she would be okay if they broke up. He would also be thankful, because he would not have been able to make the decision in such a way, not after everything.

He did, however, move to San Francisco. He did not want to miss the pregnancy milestones, and he wanted to be nearby in case something happened. Luisa visited Portland in December, now clearly showing, and Derek realized he could not only smell the difference -Luisa smelled like the two of them, together, and something sweet and new- but he could also listen to the baby’s heartbeat. That moment, when he realized just how close he could get to his child, he handed in his letter of resignation and asked Luisa to help him find a place in San Francisco.

…it should be said that not only did Luisa help him find a place, but she also found him a job as a construction manager through one of her father’s connections. Derek truly did not deserve Luisa, and he would beat himself over the fact throughout the next couple of months.

However, it was Adriana who made him realize that maybe, just maybe, he ought to talk to Luisa about lycanthropy. He had managed to avoid that conversation by telling himself that it did not matter, that he did not have a pack and that his anchor was enough to keep the moon from affecting him too much. Yet, Adriana pointed out that if Talia’s three children inherited the werewolf gene, maybe a child of Derek’s would, too. The prospect of having Adriana find out about lycanthropy because of an issue during the pregnancy, or by having her child transforming in front of her, scared Derek so much that he had to call her immediately and ask her to speak about something important.

_Shouldn’t you have said something before?_ She asked, after she started breathing normally again. Derek was kneeling in front of her, holding a glass of water in his hands. He lowered his head, but nodded. _It’s not easy – a hunter killed my whole family, and I’ve been prosecuted throughout my whole life. I thought I could keep you away from this side of my life._ He replied. To be honest, he had not told her because he had not wanted to mix his lycanthropy with his relationship. Luisa gave him a place to be calm and safe, and he thought that if he revealed his situation, she would immediately be introduced into a dangerous world.

_And I understand that, Der. But you didn’t give me a choice! You didn’t give me a choice and now I’m pregnant with a potentially werewolf baby. What am I supposed to do?_ She exclaimed. Derek tried to touch her arm, to calm her down, but she flinched. He felt like shit, immediately, because the potential for fear was also a factor in deciding not to reveal the truth.

_It shouldn’t change our plans, Lou._ He replied. _A werewolf child is a still a child…just…_

_Please go,_ she begged. He opened his mouth again, but she repeated. _Please go. We’ll speak tomorrow, but – please, go._

They did not speak the next day, nor the next one, but she did call him that Saturday. She told him she would be cooking lunch, and that he was cordially invited to attend. Derek had been supposed to go to work, but he immediately cancelled and then spent the next of the day in a state of panic. He arrived five minutes before the agreed upon hour, but Luisa, ever the gracious host, did nothing to point it out.

_You were ready to ask me to marry you, Derek. You were ready to ask me to spend the rest of my life with you, and you had not told me that you were not human._ She hissed, after at least half an hour of silence. Derek nodded. She was breading the chicken, while Derek chopped the veggies. The scene seemed far too normal for the topic of conversation – Derek though about the word _bathos_ , and figured it described nicely the whole situation.

_I’m sorry._ He replied, pouring the veggies inside the pot. She shook her head and said, _I don’t think you are, not really. I’ve realized you wouldn’t have asked me to marry you if I had not gotten pregnant. I don’t think you would have opened up, had I not gotten pregnant. And I don’t deserve THAT_ , she emphasized her word by throwing a piece of chicken inside the hot oil. She cursed when a little bit of it hit the inside of her wrist, but she batted Derek’s hands away, when he tried to help. _I will love my child, because I’m their mother and that’s what I’m supposed to do. But I will not be an afterthought, Derek. I’m awesome and I deserve to be treated as such._ Derek nodded but remained quiet. Twenty minutes later, after the lunch was done and they were both sitting by the table, she spoke again. _I don’t want to be with you, Derek- it’s not because you’re -it’s not because of that. It’s because I’ve loved you for years, and I’ve loved you well. And you still don’t trust me, you still have not let me in. You’ve been selfish, and unfair, an I deserve better._

_Can I – will you let me be a part of their life,_ he asked, after a tense moment of silence. She let out a sharp laugh, _And because you asked that question, yes, Derek, of course you will be part of their life. You’re their father just as much as I’m their mother. We just won’t be a couple._

Derek nodded. It was what he deserved, he though, even if he had gotten what he had wanted from the very beginning.


End file.
